Very compelling no texting while driving documentary from Werner Herzog. Must see…
Still a little bulky for my liking, the Livescribe 3 Smartpen system provides you with a way to capture and synchronize handwritten notes and recorded audio.
Consider buildings. Although you may not be an architect, you can be touched by a graceful space. The kind of space where you close your eyes and feel the gentle hand of the architect reveal itself in the way sound and air moves around you. Try it sometime. Go to your favorite space. Close your eyes and breathe slowly and intuit the goodness.
A book with proper margins says a number of things. It says, we care about the page. It says, we care about the words. We care so much that we’re going to ensure the words and the page fall into harmony.—Craig Mod
I often think about design when it comes to buildings and open spaces, but before reading this I had never thought about it when touching or reading a book. I suspect that I’ve enjoyed a “good” book without really understanding why it was that I enjoyed it. From this point forward I can’t imagine not noticing the design and layout of a good book.
At the intermission, we are in the green room, everyone jabbering a mile a minute because there is so much energy in the theater that night.
Except for Robin Williams.
He is standing quietly against a wall, a look of discomfort etched on his face. Onstage, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. He was relentless. It was impossible to not feel his impact.
Offstage, he is Boo Radley — hugging the corner, hidden, uncomfortable.
I have no idea who Chris Gethard is, but his remembrance of Robin Williams is pretty lovely.
How much more can you give? Other than, literally, open-heart surgery onstage? Not much. But the only cure you have right now is the honesty of going, this is who you are. I know who I am.
Matt Honan as an interesting article on Wired that illustrates exactly why I left Facebook a few months back. He spent two days “liking” everything he saw and the end result was that his entire newsfeed became a giant clutter of garbage. While that should come as no surprise, what is disconcerting is how Honan’s “likes” began cluttering the feeds of his Facebook friends:
While I expected that what I saw might change, what I never expected was the impact my behavior would have on my friends’ feeds. I kept thinking Facebook would rate-limit me, but instead it grew increasingly ravenous. My feed become a cavalcade of brands and politics and as I interacted with them, Facebook dutifully reported this to all my friends and followers.
That first night, a small little circle with a dog’s head popped up in the corner of my phone. A chat head, from Facebook’s Messenger software! The dog turned out to be my old WIRED editor, John Bradley. “Have you been hacked,” he wanted to know. The next morning, my friend Helena sent me a message. “My fb feed is literally full of articles you like, it’s kind of funny,” she says. “No friend stuff, just Honan likes.”
This is exactly what began happening to me. I “liked” almost nothing on Facebook, but my newsfeed was becoming increasingly cluttered with the detritus of what my friends liked. Less about their families and photos of their vacations, more and more about what band of the 70s they were and what shampoo they enjoyed.
I’d like to say I miss Facebook, but I don’t. I miss the real, personal updates that helped keep my finger on the pulse of my friend’s personal lives, but I don’t miss the trashed-up news feed at all. And I’m never going back…